Showering
by Crazy4Moony
Summary: Gryffindor Quidditch showers broke down. Nothing else to do but shower with the Slytherins, I suppose. And even though Harry would love to see Malfoy naked, he seems to think it might not be such a good idea. I disagree.


Showering

**Showering.**** Starring Staring!**

"God! He's not being nice to us!" Wood snarled.

"Who isn't?" Fred asked, curious but confused.

"God!" Wood yelled, as if it wasn't obvious.

"O."

Wood was right. God wasn't being nice. Ten minutes ago, the male players of the Gryffindor quidditch team had been informed that their showers were broke. They had to shower with the Slytherins. Now that sucks! I mean… who in his right mind goes into an enclosed space that holds naked Slytherins? Exactly. No one.

So they were on their way to the Slytherin shower rooms, wearing nothing but towels around there middle. Because no matter how much this sucked, they were muddy and in need of a shower—naked Slyterins or not.

"Maybe they're already gone." Harry suggested.

He certainly _hoped_ they were. Fred nodded in agreement.

"If we're lucky." George said.

"Let's pray to this so-called God person, that they're already gone." Fred said.

As a non-believing wizard, he didn't really trusted God or any of that stuff, but he still folded his hands, as if he was indeed about to pray.

Harry just snorted.

'As long as Malfoy isn't there.' He thought.

Harry had recently developed a certain… fondness for Malfoy. He didn't know where it came from. One day he was fine, and the next he was walking in the great hall and his head screamed: 'O my God! Malfoy's hot.' And 'would you look at that body!'

So if now it would happen to be that he and Malfoy were together in one shower-room, naked and wet, who knows what might happen? Harry would warm up in places he wasn't supposed to warm up. It was irritating, really, but what're you gonna do about it?

He gave a deep sigh and tried to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. He was nervous, really. He seriously didn't want to run into Malfoy. He couldn't care about all the other Slytherins—as long as Malfoy wasn't there, he was a happy-camper. (Not for real, of course. Harry Potter is not a happy-camper nor shall he ever be one. Let's just state that if Malfoy indeed appeared not to be in the shower rooms, Huffelpuff's I'm-so-happy-grin would be nothing compared to Harry's.)

"Okay Lads, here goes nothing." Wood pushed the heavy door of the Slytherin locker-rooms open, and out came… a bunch of Slytherins, and a lot of steam.

George shivered with horror, as the Slytherins were, like the Gryffindors, wearing nothing but towels. Foul! The Slytherins said nothing, and the Gryffindors looked at the steam as if it was about to attack them.

"I don't know… looks kind of fishy." Fred joked, as he saw the others eye it suspiciously.

"Well, you go in first then, smart ass." George pushed his brother in, who gave a girlish shriek, and started laughing.

"Everything safe captain, enemies are out of sight."

Wood went in after Fred, and then Harry and George followed.

Fred hadn't lied: no Slytherins, thank God.

The guys took their towels off, and went into the group shower. This was the part of Quidditch that Harry didn't like: the group showers. But hell, nothing to do about that anyway, and there was always steam. That was kind of handy.

Harry relaxed soon enough, letting the warm water become one with him. Oliver was first to leave, and after half an hour, Fred and George left too, leaving Harry by himself, joking that he had a lover that always joined him in the shower after games and practice. He was last once more, but didn't mind, he never did. He was enjoying the warm water rolling down his back, when the door opened.

"What is it? Forgot your towel or something?" Harry said and turned around, thinking it would be Fred or George.

He froze. Malfoy.

Draco looked up at Harry, and stopped what he was doing (which was taking his towel off). Part of Harry wished he wouldn't—the other part scolded at him for wanting to see Draco ('it's Malfoy!') naked.

"Why are you still here?" He asked with a slight nod, and his brows in a hot sort of frown.

"Is it forbidden to take long showers or something?" Harry asked, totally forgetting about the fact that he was completely naked.

"Your friends left." Draco stated, as if that should be enough reason for Harry to leave.

"So did yours!"

"Oh fine! But I'm not waiting any longer. You'll have to go." Draco said in his usual 'I'm the boss of you' tone.

"What! No! Why!" Harry asked, not getting why he'd leave.

"I want to take a shower!" Draco yelled.

"I'm not stopping you, am I?" Harry was slightly surprised about: one: his answer, two: Malfoy.

He would've thought that Malfoy was the kind of guy that didn't mind group showers. He bragged about everything, had the upper hand everywhere in Slytherin, so he wouldn't mind exposing his naked body in front of his friends, now would he?

"Fine." Draco came to stand next to Harry.

Harry willed himself to look into Draco's eyes, as he took of his towel. The towel fell on the floor, and was wet before it even touched the tiles, because of the steam, and the water coming from Harry's side of the shower.

Harry's cheeks reddened a little, as he thought about what he would see if he'd look down. He didn't do it though, because Malfoy was still looking right into his eyes, as if to say: 'do not dare to look down.'

"Here, I'm showering, happy now." Draco snarled.

"Whatever." Harry said in an equal snarl.

He turned to look at the showerhead, water still coming down. Harry closed his eyes, and let the water wash away everything inside. He tried to ignore the fact that Draco was right next to him, although he could hear wet footsteps on the slippery tiles, every time he moved. His stomach made jump after jump and it made Harry feel quite sick.

'Do not look at Draco.' Harry thought.

'Hi! Do not call Draco Draco!'

'Ow… fuck! Control yourself.' Harry yelled inside his head.

'Easy. Don't let him notice. Forget it. Take the soap, pretend to be washing yourself… something!'

Harry reached down for the soap, which should normally be lying at his feet. Nothing. He opened his eyes.

'No, close them again! Get back up! Then open them!' Harry listened to his head, although part of him wished he hadn't.

He looked at Draco, his eyes were closed, and Harry couldn't stop himself from examining his pale body. Very muscled, very strong, a little bit scarred. His eyes wandered down from his chest to his navel, already starting to follow the fine line of silver-blonde pubic hair. His head snapped up and he closed his eyes to calm himself.

'Don't ever do that again, you perv!'

Harry growled, to make sure his voice wouldn't be hoarse if he opened his mouth. Draco's eyes shot open, but he didn't look at Harry.

"Do you have soap?" Harry asked.

"Sure." Draco disappeared in the white steam.

Harry flinched when Draco's searching hand touched his foot for about half a second, then, a little later Draco came back up, triumphantly holding a green bar of soap. Harry took it, and looked curiously at it.

"What? Isn't it good enough for you?" Draco snapped.

"No, just… you know… green… could've figured." Harry looked up to see Draco glaring at him.

"You know… with this being Slytherin showers and stuff…" Harry felt ridiculous, and whished Draco could just stop looking at him.

"Yah… sure, whatever you say." Draco gave him the you're-obviously-insane look, then continued: "it's just soap okay. Nothing more to it." And closed his eyes again.

"I know that but…" Harry's voice died in his throat.

"Just use the fucking soap Harry, it won't bite."

Harry's eyes widened. Did Draco just call him Harry? Yes he did! And he was completely ignoring the fact that he had!

"Well, erm… thanks I guess…" Harry sounded like a scared mouse.

"For Merlin's sake! It's soap Harry! Use it already! It's just bloody soap!" Draco turned and looked at him once more, clearly irritated.

He looked kind of hot, being irritated and all.

"I didn't mean…" Harry stuttered.

"Just… use… it." Draco growled dangerously, and Harry looked at the soap.

"I… don't have a washcloth." Now Harry really felt stupid.

"No problem." Draco ducked again.

"Here." He came up with a washcloth.

A silver one.

"Thanks…" Harry started rubbing the soap and washcloth together, while Draco just stared at him. He glided the washcloth over his arms and shoulders, feeling that he'd be sore in the morning. His muscles were really tense. Then he coated his chest with some of the green foam, it smelled a bit like apples, he noticed. When he started washing his stomach he suddenly became aware of Draco's starring eyes.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" he asked, frightened Draco might've poisoned the soap or something like that.

"Nope. Nothing." Draco continued watching Harry.

"Then, erm… why are you looking at me?"

"Looking at…" Draco's head snapped up, his cheeks a deep pink.

"Right, sorry, just… erm… thinking…" he looked at the showerhead, and Harry shot him a last curious look, and continued washing himself.

"Nice game." Came a mumble suddenly.

Harry looked at Draco again.

'Fuck, it's Malfoy!'

'Stop that! I can call him Draco if I want to!'

'Okay, fine! But say something, Malfoy's waiting!'

'Draco.'

He wasn't really. His eyes were still closed. But Harry wanted to talk to Draco, he really did! He wanted to talk without fighting! But he didn't know what to say…

"Thank you. You weren't that bad either. It was very close at the end, don't you think?" Harry said, it came out in a blur, but he was fairly happy with himself.

After all, he asked Draco a question, which he would have to answer, if he didn't want to be rude that is. He had officially made conversation. Or something like that. Just forget the fact Draco started talking. Then Harry would've made the conversation, right?

"Yeah. Just too bad it was another Gryffindor victory." A little smile appeared on Draco's face.

It made Harry melt. _Melt_! He had seen Draco smile a lot, but it was never because of something Harry had said, and it was never there when Harry was near him. That smile was more of a sneer, something used only for mockery.

"Maybe if you're nice, I'll go easy on you next time."

'Fuck! You did not just say that! You did not!'

Harry did.

He felt his cheeks go red, and Draco started grinning, still not opening his eyes.

"I bet you'd like that."

He was teasing, of course he was. But he couldn't know how close he was to the truth. Harry couldn't let him know.

"O, bugger off!" Harry said, and faced the showerhead again.

'Yeah. Act like a child. That'll help. NOT!'

Draco glared at him, what was Potter's fucking problem?

"I was joking. Geez no need to get all offended. You like have a girlfriend, don't worry, I know you're not a poof."

'What?'

"What girlfriend?" Harry asked, seriously questioning Draco's comment.

'I don't have a girlfriend? Right?'

"The redhead." He simply said.

"Ginny?" Harry started laughing aloud.

'Ginny! He thinks I'm with Ginny! That's fun! With Ginny! Ha!'

"Yah, that one."

"She's not my girlfriend. Nor would I want one."

'Fuck! Rephrase that!'

Draco looked at him.

"I mean… I wouldn't want her as one… she's not my type…" Harry blushed again.

'Maybe it's time to come out the closet.'

"What exactly is your type than?" Draco looked at him.

'Come out of the cl…'

"She isn't. Doesn't matter what is, she just isn't." Harry closed his eyes, ignoring Malfoy, ('Ha! Victory! He's Malfoy again!) and enjoyed the hot water, it felt quite cool against his face, that had been burning up seconds ago.

Malfoy stayed still. Nothing. Just the sound of running water.

Harry opened his eyes again. Where was Draco?

'Malfoy!'

"Odd. Didn't notice him leaving." Harry said out loud.

"What was that?" Came a voice from underneath the white mist, which was still very… white?

"O. Sorry, didn't see you, I thought you'd left."

Harry came down to sit on the wet tiles, so now both he and Draco ('Malfoy!') were practically invisible. If someone would come in, the person wouldn't notice them, they were surrounded by the steam, which worked as some sort of odd invisibility cloak.

Harry could see Draco's figure, he was like a shadow now, sitting with his knees up against his chest.

"What's wrong?"

Harry placed himself in front of Draco, with his legs crossed, which was a very… exposing way to sit, certainly if you were naked, but Harry forgot that for a second, he just wanted to know what was wrong.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"Why would you care?" Draco asked, looking into Harry's marvellous emerald eyes.

"I just do. Now what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Harry sighed, and came to sit next to Draco.

"You can tell me."

"I can't, 'cause there's simply nothing wrong, I just felt like sitting on the floor, and then all of a sudden," Draco's voice got a sarcastic tone just there "I was overwhelmed by the size of your… feet." He started grinning.

Harry got red. Very red. Gryffindor red was nothing compared to the red of Harry's cheeks.

'Yah sure. Of your feet. Like we didn't get that one.'

"Aww. Did I make you blush? You poor thing. I knew you couldn't resist me."

He was teasing again.

"O, shut up."

Draco lay down on his stomach, and as Harry lay down on his side next to him (he had already seen it all, it didn't really had any use trying to hide it anymore) he couldn't help notice that Draco had a fine ass.

'Fuck. Malfoy! And he does not have a fine ass!'

'Yes he does.'

"You know, I just wonder; if that already made you blush, what would happen if I do this?" At 'this' he let one of his pale fingers slide over Harry's hip.

'God! That's nice… No! Make it stop!'

"Don't." Harry whispered he wouldn't be able to stand it.

His skin turned into goosebumps. He was burning up, just a little bit.

"Why not? You like it. Afraid you're liking it to much?"

'Yes.'

"No."

"Sure." His finger touched Harry's skin again.

It was light—barely here, but enough to make Harry gasp. He moved a little closer, just a teeny tiny bit, but a bit is a bit. And every bit counts.

"And if that would almost send you over the top, what would this do?" He moved a little bit more.

Harry looked into his eyes.

And then he felt Draco's lips upon his own. A chaste kiss at first. Draco licked Harry's lips, and parted them carefully. His tongue slipped into the raven's mouth, and explored every inch of it.

Draco was right, he was liking it.

'More!'

'Wait.'

'Don't!'

Draco backed away.

"You're playing." Harry whispered.

He was. He had to be. This was Draco fucking Malfoy! He had to be!

"What if I'm not?" Draco grinned.

"You are."

'He is.'

'He is not!'

'Malfoy is using you!'

'He is not! And it's Draco!'

'Malfoy!'

'Draco!'

'Malfoy!'

"Draco!" God.

He had just shouted. Right?

"What?" Draco asked curiously.

He looked sort of shocked. Sort of. O, buggers, who was Harry kidding, he looked hot!

"You're playing." Harry simply said.

The thought that he was completely naked struck him like thunder.

'Get up, get your towel, get out.'

"I'm not."

"You are." Harry started getting up.

'Towel. Do not forget the towel.'

"Stay." Draco grabbed Harry's arm.

"Don't. You're playing with me."

Draco pulled Harry down, and pressed him onto the wet tiles, water was still running from the two cranes.

"I am not." He hissed.

"You'll take what you want and leave."

'_Me_. Take what you want and leave _me_."

"I will not."

"Prove it."

Draco stared at Harry. He just stared. Staring looked good on him. Jeez. Was there anything the blonde could do wrong? Harry seriously doubted it.

He leaned in closer and connected their lips again, pushing Harry into the floor, their bodies linked together almost completely. When they separated they were both without breath and feeling rather dizzy.

"That's your prove?" Harry whispered when he'd regained the ability to breathe.

"Take it or leave it."

Harry opened the door to the bathroom. It had been a long month. Very long. He was happy to be home now. All the messy things he'd seen—he needed consolation, strong arms to hold him.

After a long month, a shower did good on him. So did Draco.

"Hi love." Came a voice from behind the shower curtain.

Harry pulled it away to reveal a naked Draco. The blonde turned, smiling happily, and impatiently tugged at Harry's shirt—he didn't even bother to dry his hands or turn off the shower.

"I missed you." Harry whispered, as Draco undid the slacks of his jeans and pushed them down.

"Missed you too love. Come on."

Harry stepped out of his clothes and Draco pulled him into his arms, kissing him fiercely. Draco's mouth attached itself to Harry's neck, nibbling and going down and down and down, until he was on bended knees in front of him.

"My, my," Draco looked up at Harry, fake-innocence in his eyes. "Now what do we have here?"

Harry dropped down and forced their lips together once more.

"You know, I _could_ show you." He whispered hoarsely against Draco's neck.

Draco shivered involuntarily, and as said, Harry… _showed_ him.

_Fin._


End file.
